Crossroads
by Hikagi
Summary: Collection of crossover shots. #9: Ouran. Tamaki goes back to see his friends one last time.
1. Cannot be Granted

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic community, username: yatsuka.

yatsuka. livejournal. com/ 3584. html #cutid1 -- has the challenge table with current Holic shots. Y'know. If you're interested.

I bring you all another piece of fanfiction! (cheers) But I'm not completely back online, so comments might take a while for me to address. Inspired by mariko neko, so it's dedicated to her!

**Title**: My Wish Cannot Be Granted  
**Pairing**: N/A  
**Rating**: G  
**Genre**: General  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Warning**: It's another "What if…?" thing. Crossover between xxxHOLiC and Cardcaptor Sakura. It was originally meant to a reply to a comment on LJ, but then it got too long. Now it's supposed to be the prequel to "Coincidences" (located under "Circumstance" in the Ouran section), but you don't have to read it to understand this. It would help explain a few things, however.  
**Summary**: Even the Dimension Witch has her limits. Watanuki was just getting used to the idea that things happened because of 'hitsuzen' when a strangely beautiful lady steps into Yuuko's shop.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

"My Wish Cannot Be Granted"

By Hikagi

* * *

Watanuki took in a deep sigh and stopped sweeping the front porch in order to wipe off the accumulating sweat on his brow. The leaves piled before him were only a handful of the debris that covered the rest of Yuuko's lawn, and he was going to have to work extra hard in order to finish his chores for the day...

...Especially if that conniving fox of a woman kept on sending him for more osake every half hour...

Seriously, she was so high-maintenance that it drove him crazy! And her little minions were out to get him as well! It wasn't bad enough that he had to see evil spirits everywhere, but he had to _live_ and _work_ with some of them (coughYuukocough) too!

Okay, so they _did_ have their good points every once in a while, but did they have to latch on to him like leeches? Maru, Moro and Mokona might be called "cute" to others, but he knew that deep down inside, they were concocting plans to ruin his lif-

Watanuki stopped trying to strangle his broom when he realized that he had been saying his thoughts out loud (again) in front of another person (again) and that he might have looked slightly crazy (yet another again). Oh well - it wasn't anything different than normal.

"Ara, ara," she said while observing the trees in the yard. "I don't mean to intrude, but the colors on these branches are so very pretty. I noticed them and found myself walking in before I realized it."

Then the person's presence clicked something in the back of his mind and he slowly drew himself to full height. The woman in front of him just smiled as if his earlier actions were slightly amusing and nothing out of the ordinary.

"Um, welcome to Yuuko's store," he said a bit hesitantly, fumbling with the rice-paper doors. "If you would come this way..."

* * *

A few minutes later, he found himself pouring some tea for the guest and his employer. But for some reason, Watanuki felt compelled to stay in his seat unlike past times where he would leave immediately after serving the drinks.

The strange, beautiful lady was still smiling pleasantly at him, as if he reminded her of someone she once knew. He wondered if she was like some of the other unsuspecting people that would occasionally wander into Yuuko's shop.

Most of the time, he would just peek in from the hallway to listen in with Maru and Moro, but this time he was sitting just a little off to the side in the same room. And Yuuko didn't seem to mind his presence because she just got straight down to business.

"Now then," Yuuko said as she took a mug and sipped it gently. "You have a wish, do you not...?"

"Mizuki Kaho," the guest supplied. "You may call me Kaho."

"Kaho, then," the shop owner nodded. "What is it that you desire?"

Watanuki saw that the guest's face became a little less happy. For a beautiful lady to look that way, it made him wonder what could have caused such sadness.

"What I desire...cannot be granted," she said, gripping her untouched tea.

"And why is that?"

Kaho hesitated a little. "I already tried looking for him to no avail. None of my friends know where he is, nor do they have the means to find out. And I doubt if you would be able to locate him either – I have seen it in my dreams."

Yuuko laughed as a smirk crept upon her face. "And who is this person?"

Kaho finally brought the mug to her lips as she evaded the question. "Come here, Watanuki-kun," she called, holding out a hand.

Yuuko's eyes narrowed slightly at her guest as suspicions rose and started weaving together.

Kaho ignored the witch's gaze and took Watanuki's hand.

"Watanuki Kimihiro," she said. "Spelled like April 1st. I know someone who has your birthday." She smiled another sad smile. "And another who has your face…"

Watanuki just blinked. "How did you...?"

"That's because she has the Sight." Yuuko set her cup down and motioned for a refill. Then, without missing a beat, she turned her attention and said, "You're from Tomoeda."

Kaho nodded.

"Yes. I was there when the Card Mistress was named. And I am here now to see, despite my misgivings, if you can find the person I am looking for. His name is Hiiragizawa Eriol."

Kaho's piercing eyes locked on to Yuuko's all-seeing ones as Watanuki watched the interaction over the top of his glasses while pouring more tea.

"He used to go by the name of Clow Reed."

Watanuki ended up dropping the teapot on the floor. Yuuko didn't say anything about it, which was what made the whole ordeal even stranger.

"But if Clow does not want to be found," Kaho said, looking down at her cold mug with that strange, far away look on her face again, "then there's nothing I can do about it."

"Indeed," Yuuko said, eyeing the woman cautiously. "If that's the case, then there's nothing I can do for you either. Watanuki," she barked. "Please show this woman to the door."

Kaho rose graciously from her seat as Watanuki scrambled to pick up the last remains of the broken teapot. But before they could step out, Yuuko interrupted, pulling out a long thin pipe and a small pinch of tobacco.

"What was it that she says all the time – her 'invincible spell'? Z_ettai daijoubu da yo…?_"

Kaho nodded. "That was her favorite phrase. _'Everything will surely be all right'_."

Yuuko smiled. "Then I'm sure things will work out for you."

With that, the door closed and Watanuki gently led the woman back to the main doors.

* * *

"I'm sorry that she couldn't be of help to you," he apologized, bowing as he did so. "She usually is able to do just about anything."

"That's fine," Kaho said as she put on her shoes. "I benefited from this meeting anyhow."

"What do you mean?"

Kaho leaned in a little closer and placed a hand on his cheek. "Has anyone told you that you look just like him?"

"…Like who?"

There was that smile again.

"Never mind. It was nice meeting you, Watanuki-kun. I'm sure we'll see each other again sometime."

And then she turned to leave.

* * *

"Yuuko-san, what about her wish?" Watanuki asked as he watched the lady disappear past the gates.

Yuuko emerged from the seemingly empty space behind him. He knew by now to expect her to pop up out of nowhere when it seemed like no one was around.

"If she is convinced that I cannot help her, then I cannot help her. Her beliefs – not Clow's power – is what's keeping her from finding him."

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Cardcaptor Sakura

I think I like doing one-shots and short stories than writing long, plot-filled ones. More (possibly crossover) shots to come, so hang in there!

Feedback welcome! And I know that Kaho's background/situation wasn't explained very well, but this was a super-rushed job.

_Yatsuka Hikagi _

_July 30, 2006_


	2. Fukushuu, Revenge

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic community, username: yatsuka.

My wonderful, sweet, awesome, caring, (add other positive descriptions here) roomie has committed an unforgivable sin – no, wait. Sins. More than one. She gave me plot bunnies. And got me hooked on another anime series. Or three. And so, you can all blame/thank her for this fic.

It's dedicated to you, Nink – ya hear?

**Title**: Fukushuu  
**Pairing**: N/A  
**Rating**: PG – for mentions of death and the creepiness of Yuuko/Ai that knows no bounds.  
**Genre**: General, Horror?  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Warning**: As with all crossovers, this fic does not adhere strictly to canon. And my hormone levels are all screwed up right now. I think that's warning enough.  
**Summary**: There were things in life worse than dying. Of this, Watanuki was sure. One did not have the luxury of remaining completely oblivious to hardships when being cursed with the ability to attract evil spirits, after all. Still, he had never known pure, unadulterated hatred. After talking with Yuuko, he never hoped to.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

"Fukushuu – Revenge"

By Hikagi

* * *

"Yuuko-san," he said as he poured her another cup of coffee. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow as she helped herself to the cookies Watanuki had prepared earlier in the day. "Do you have a family?"

Yuuko smiled mischievously and picked up her mug. "What's this, Watanuki – suddenly curious?"

"N-no!" He paused, setting the coffee pot on the table with a frown. "Well, maybe."

"Ho!" Her eyes lit up this time. "And what made you ask?"

He waved a hand at the air and settled on staring down at the patterns in the wood. "Just… I was remembering something."

"Ah. I see."

Yesterday had been the last day of Obon, and their little group (along with a number of other locals) had gathered at Doumeki's shrine to light lanterns. Watanuki had lit one for his parents and watched as it floated away with countless others on a nearby river, the flames gradually getting dimmer. (1)

Yuuko-san had made a passing comment on how the candles would help guide the spirits back to their realm by gathering around the underworld gates.

"So do you?" He was referring back to his first question.

Yuuko set her cup down and reached out for another cookie. "I _suppose_ you could say that we are related, though I'm not sure if it's by blood. But we have a few things in common."

Watanuki waited until she was done scarfing down what little was left of the batch. "Who?"

"Her name is Ai."

"Ai," he repeated, trying it out. He liked the sound of that. "That's a nice name."

"You think so too?" Then she smirked, looking at him with a sly expression. "Or maybe that's because you have someone you like?" (2)

He ignored that last statement and pushed towards another topic instead. "And what does she do?"

Watanuki was startled by the fearsome, feral grin that crept on to her face. It wasn't a particularly pleasant look.

"She grants wishes. For a price."

Watanuki involuntarily shivered. They sounded like they were family, alright. "Like you do?"

"Hmm…" She paused, bringing her free hand up to her face to tap her chin thoughtfully. "Yes and no. Her specialty has more to do with revenge and delivery."

"Revenge and delivery? What kind of profession is that?"

_Your bitterness, I will dispel._ (3)

"An arduous one. And one that cannot be performed just by anyone." She handed him her mug and he automatically moved to fill it. "Do you remember, Watanuki?"

_If you truly wish to eliminate your antagonist then you must untie the red ribbon._ (4)

"Hai?"

She was staring at him now with that gaze – the one that looked like it was looking into the deep recesses of his mind and soul.

_If you remove the string then you will have officially entered into a contract with me. _

"Earlier, when we first met, I warned you. Your name is the bridge to your soul. Your date of birth communicates your past and future."

Yuuko's eyes caught the light and they flashed red – redder than he ever remembered considering that he had always noticed his employer's unusual irises.

_The one you seek revenge upon will be taken immediately to Hell._

"Do you remember what I said about taking another's life?"

She waited, still staring at him. He opened his mouth when he realized that she wanted him to respond.

_Know this, if I deliver your revenge, you must make restitution to me._

"That it has severe consequences," he answered a bit hesitantly after a few seconds.

His legs were starting to go numb from sitting on his feet too long in one position.

_When one person is cursed, two graves are dug._

The Dimensional Witch nodded. "Yes. It is a heavy burden. Do you know why?"

Watanuki shook his head, trying not to wince as the movement made his body shift and the prickling sensations in his legs increase.

_If you accept this contract, then your soul will fall into the pits of hell._

Yuuko reached out to a small cabinet that was in arm's reach and took out a thin box. Watanuki recognized it as the one she kept her smoking pipe in.

"The price is eternal damnation."

_Your soul will forever wander in pain and agony never having known paradise._

"Eternal damnation?"

Suddenly, it wasn't just his legs that were numb. There was a coldness in the pit of his stomach that became more pronounced with each passing second, making him exceedingly uncomfortable.

_But that's after you die._

Yuuko shrugged as she stuffed a bit of tobacco into her pipe and lit it on fire. "Or so people think."

"Then that means…"

"Ai-chan has made her decision, and has paid the price." She paused as she inhaled and released the smoke in a steady stream. "No, it is more accurate to say that she has taken upon her shoulders to carry the burden and is still suffering as we speak."

Watanuki watched the smoke linger in the room and swirl about as if it had a mind of its own.

"Can't we do anything about it?"

She peered at him with a sideways tilt of her head.

"Don't you think I've already tried?"

* * *

Watanuki was standing in front of the outdoor sinks after gym class, vigorously washing his face and scrubbing the dirt from under his fingernails.

"Argh, that Doumeki! He's annoying! If he doesn't tie with me during the track runs, then he gets lucky and blocks half of my shots during soccer!"

He turned off the faucet and reached for his towel, careful not to upset his glasses.

"_Hey, did you hear?"_

"_Nani, nani?"_

"_About Jigoku Tsuushin!" (5)_

"_Jigoku Tsuushin?"_

Watanuki stopped drying his face when he heard the voices of two senior girls only a few meters away. He snatched his glasses and put them on and then turned his head in the direction of the voices.

"_Yeah! They say that if you leave a message on the homepage, you can deliver your vengeance against any antagonist."_

"_Really? Sounds amazing."_

"_But there's a catch. Apparently, you die too if you use it."_

"_No way! Does such a thing exist?"_

By now, he was listening intently, ears straining at every sound. Without being aware of it, he was holding his breath, anxiously waiting for the conversation to continue.

His thoughts echoed that of the second girl. Did such a thing exist? Was it possible? Did Yuuko-san know of this Jigoku Tsuushin?

"_Probably. One of my friend's friend used it, and they said that the boy bullying her went missing the next day."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Of course!"_

The voices were starting to fade and Watanuki found himself unconsciously leaving his perch to follow them, his towel forgotten at the sink.

"_It's true that this world would be better off if some people weren't around."_

"_But they say that the webpage can't be accessed unless you have a really strong grudge."_

Watanuki jumped slightly when he felt a hand descend on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"D-d-doumeki!"

He tried to give the taller boy a fierce glare, but that was effectively ruined by Doumeki's impassive face.

"Eavesdropping?" he asked, looking at the retreating figures of the girls. Watanuki could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn't impressed.

"N-no way! Zenzen! Never in a million years!" He made exaggerated motions to get the point across, but Doumeki was ignoring him by this point.

"Would you use it?" he cut in, stopping Watanuki in the middle of his rant.

Watanuki blinked, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation. "Huh?"

"The rumor those girls were talking about," he clarified. "Would you even consider something like that?"

Watanuki seemed to shrink in his spot. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "I'm just thinking about getting rid of this curse. I don't have time for trivial things such as vengeance."

"Oh?"

"And besides." Watanuki pushed his glasses further up his nose and brushed off his shoulders. "There's probably a catch to it. You probably can't use it to drive away evil spirits." He turned around and started walking back to the sinks to retrieve his towel.

Doumeki stayed for a bit longer, watching the other boy with a seemingly bored expression before he followed suit. "They said that the user dies."

By now Watanuki had picked up his belongings and was making his way back to the classroom. "That's probably not all there is to it. Yuuko-san hinted as much."

"Hmm?"

'_After all,'_ Watanuki thought, recalling to mind how Syaoran was clutching the pale, limp figure known as Sakura that fateful day,_ 'there were things in life worse than simply dying.'_

He looked across the school yard and saw the familiar shape of something white falling from the sky. It seemed perfectly harmless, but he knew better by now. Nothing was as it seemed, and there were no such things as coincidences. (6)

'_Yes, there were many things on this earth worse than death…'_

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Jigoku Shoujo

1. Obon is a Japanese holiday that commemorates the dead. It takes place during the 13th-15th of the seventh month (July or August, depending on if you use the solar or lunar calendar) of the year.

2. 'Ai' can also mean 'love'. Yuuko was teasing Watanuki about his crush on Himawari-chan.

3. I'm using Shinsen-Sub's translations because some of the other ones I've found don't suit my tastes.

4. The italics were taken directly from the anime – they are the words that the Jigoku Shoujo (Hell Girl) speaks to each and every one of her 'customers' (as Yuuko would put it) before she fulfills their 'wish'.

5. Jigoku Tsuushin means Hotline (or Correspondence) to Hell.

6. The feathers! You remember the feathers, no? From episode 13 of the anime when that one girl had wings sprouting from her back?

If you are unfamiliar with Jigoku Shoujo, I highly recommend that you find out about it (try wikipedia or anime news network). It's a little dark and horror-ish, but xxxHOLiC is like that too in some ways. This was inspired by my noticing Enma Ai's hairstyle and thinking, "Hey, doesn't Yuuko have the hime-cut as well?" And they _both_ have red eyes! And then voila, my brain takes off in another direction _yet again_.

I dislike how I start off with a simple idea or sentence, and it writes itself to be longer than I intended. It produces some interesting results, yes, but I end up spending so many hours trying to figure out how I'm going to go from one topic to another. It's aggravating!

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_November 10, 2006  
_


	3. No Turning Back

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic community, username: yatsuka.

**Title**: No Turning Back  
**Pairing**: N/A  
**Rating**: PG/PG13 – for mentions of death and blood along with some mild language.  
**Genre**: General, Suspense? Horror? Angst? I have no idea at this point.  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Warning**: Crossover with Naruto. If you don't like, don't read. If you don't know Naruto, then it won't make sense. Slight AU and altering of canon events. Takes place before the xxxHOLiC manga, so there's no Watanuki. Sorry.  
**Summary**: When ambushed in his own home by the Legendary Snake Sannin, Uchiha escapes, bringing with him a large bundle that contained his most treasured object. On the run, he happens to stumble upon an odd plot of land and a woman who said she could grant a wish – any wish – for a price.

Dedicated to The Violent Tomboy, who wanted me to try an xxxHOLiC/Naruto crossover. The only thing that I didn't like about this shot is that it focuses waaaay more on Naruto than on xxxHOLiC. (shrugs) Oh well.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

"No Turning Back"

By Hikagi

* * *

He was running as fast as he could through the dark streets of Konoha, blood pounding through his ears as his breaths came in short, labored gasps. His sandals were flapping against the paved roads, echoing loudly through the empty air. He didn't bother using chakra to help mask his trail, seeing as that would do little to help. Besides, he couldn't afford to waste anything at this moment – not time, not chakra, not even air.

Because Orochimaru was here; Orochimaru was in Konoha. The Legendary Sannin had gone after him in hopes of obtaining a powerful weapon – in hopes of obtaining the Sharingan.

He had to inform the Hokage.

The thirteen-year-old kept on running, trying to stick to the scarce shadows provided by the numerous buildings. As he darted down the next block, he took a chance and looked back in the direction of the Uchiha Compound – the now desolate Uchiha Compound. For a minute, his vision swarmed with the faces of his dead relatives: Father, Mother, Teyaki-ojichan, Uruchi-obachan, his other cousins, aunts, and uncles, cold bodies strewn across the ground, blood covering the houses from wall to wall…

_Stop that!_

He shook his head and tried to find the telltale signs of shadows following after him, the subtle spikes in chakra signatures as they moved across the rooftops. He would have used the rooftops too, had it not been for the lack of cover it entailed. Instead, his attention was caught by the moon – the full moon that, in all its glory, was giving off an eerie, malevolent, otherworldly glow that sent shivers down his spine. And it could have just been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that it was red.

The Uchiha ignored this and continued on his journey to the Hokage's Tower. Had he not been so low on chakra and injured, he could have afforded to immediately teleport to his destination. But Orochimaru had also placed a foreign jutsu over nearly half of Konoha that detected and prevented any means of teleportation, and he didn't know where it started or where it ended. Trust that stupid snake bastard to make his life more difficult than it already was.

And to make things worse, he was carrying something large in his arms, wrapped in the closest thing that had been available when he was making his escape from his own home. And while an object of its weight wouldn't have hampered him in a normal mission, the Uchiha had nothing to keep it secured to his body. That meant that at least one of his arms was useless until he found a rope or something similar to tie it to his back. Leaving it behind was out of the question.

Which meant that now, he couldn't use the normal two-handed seals to help mold his chakra, and he wasn't sure if he trusted his experimental one-handed ones yet. Mobility would be reduced significantly if he were to take steps to avoid confrontation and deliver his cargo into safe hands.

Pausing in an abandoned ally, he shifted his bundle around, placing the majority of its weight in his left arm as he brushed his bangs out of his eyes with his free hand. He winced when a cut made his nerves shoot with pain, but he ignored it when the unpleasant sensation faded. Slowly, his erratic heartbeat calmed slightly and he tried to open his ears and the rest of his senses while he gave his eyes a break. His Sharingan had been on since before he left, and he wasn't going to take any chances – not when there was so much at stake here.

Partially, it was his fault that this had happened. Had he been paying more attention to his surroundings and kept a more vigilant watch, Orochimaru would probably not have been able to infiltrate so easily into the Complex. He wouldn't have then proceeded to tear the thirteen-year-old boy's life apart, and his best friend wouldn't have gotten involved in the process.

Absently, he clenched his fist as his thoughts turned to his friend. His now dead friend – the Uchiha had killed him with a kunai to the heart when Orochimaru had placed a mind-controlling jutsu on him. And now he was forever cursed with the Mangekyou Sharingan, his hand stained with yet another person's blood…

Maybe the Snake had planned for this all along. Maybe by running to the Hokage, he was playing right into the hands of his enemies. Maybe he had merely been lucky to have been able to salvage the bundle in his arms.

…Maybe, somehow, he would survive this predicament.

_Yes,_ he thought as he took in a deep breath and vaulted across the street, careful to absorb all the shock in his knees. _I will survive. I will get through this._ (1)

But two hours of running, dodging, evading, hiding, and out-maneuvering his opponents had taken its toll on his body. He was becoming tired, oh so very tired, and his legs were protesting every step he took. There were spots in his eyes, bright specks of light that became more persistent the more he blinked to be rid of them.

Dammit! Was this the extent of his powers? Was this all that he could do? Were his skills so lacking that he could not find a way to save his own skin?

The pain from the multiple lacerations he had received during his brief struggle against Orochimaru was beginning to steadily grow. His left arm was becoming numb, and the Uchiha suspected that one of the Snake Sannin's kunai had been coated with poison. He shifted his burden to his other arm.

No, he reasoned as he sped down an unfamiliar, unoccupied street, glancing at every which direction so as to not be caught unawares by an ambush. He had been the top of his graduating class. He had been called a genius – a prodigy. _Surely_, he was capable of far more than this!

But the blood loss was starting to get to him, and he was sure that he was leaving a trail of crimson for his pursuers to follow. Mildly, he noted that his left arm was hanging all but useless by his side, a warm, wet substance dripping from the kunai wound. He was starting to get dizzy and his steps weren't as steady as before.

He was also in an unfamiliar sector of Konoha. It looked like a residential area, but he couldn't be sure. One would think that spending thirteen years in a village would be enough time to become acquainted with all of its nooks and crannies, but he had spent all of his time training to become a better shinobi. He didn't know nearly enough about his home town.

Up ahead, there was an odd, wooden fence that surrounded the borders of a small plot of land. While fences weren't uncommon in the area, the Uchiha was surprised to note that he had never seen anything that seemed to…glow, for lack of a better word, with a sense of invitation. Pausing only long enough to briefly analyze the wood, he was surprised when he found a high-leveled genjutsu placed over the entire complex.

Looking around and sensing that his enemies were near, he studied the closed gates and made a quick decision. He took a few steps back and prepared to launch himself over the fence, taking a chance that the owners of the place might see him and raise an alarm. Or worse yet, that the genjutsu would trigger a trap and alert his pursuers to his current location.

When he landed, he was met with a sight he hadn't been expecting. There was a woman – civilian, his paranoid mind told him – sitting on the front porch of a traditional-styled house with a ceramic mug in her hands and a bottle of what appeared to be sake next to her.

"Hmm?" the woman said, raising her eyebrows as she took a sip of her drink. "We seem to have a pair of interesting guests this time." She cleared her throat and stood up, taking the bottle with her as she opened the rice doors and stepped inside. "Maru, Moro – bring them in." The doors closed shut behind her.

"Okyakusan!"

"Okyakusan!"

The Uchiha hadn't even noticed the two young girls until they were nearly upon him, twirling around the young shinobi with a strange grace that he couldn't begin to fathom. When he tried to gauge their chakra levels, he was surprised to find that they had none.

"Mistress wants you to come in!" the pink one chirped, grabbing his left arm and dragging him in one direction. He tried not to wince when pain shot through his nerves and refrained from stabbing her with a kunai as instincts demanded.

"Mistress wants you to come in!" the blue one echoed, taking his right arm in her hands, causing him to nearly drop his bundle. He hissed and jerked out of their clutches, performing a faultless back flip into a nearby tree.

He didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't going to take any chances. And kami be damned if he was going to blindly follow another person's orders (a non-shinobi one at that!) without accessing the dangers first.

Which, at the moment, seemed to be a pair of young girls dancing around the tree he was sitting on.

"Waaaaai!"

"Waaaaai!"

"Look, it's blood!"

"It's blood, it's blood!"

In the back of his mind, he was worried that all the noise was going to attract attention, but after a subtle probe at the genjutsu, he noticed that a sound-proof barrier and a series of seals had been placed on the fence, preventing anything unwanted from entering or leaving. Which led him to the question of _just how_ he had managed to enter in the first place and _what the hell_ kind of a civilian required so much security around their land.

But he was already on the strange woman's property, and he had a feeling that she wasn't going to let him go as easily as he had gotten in. Resigned, he slowly let himself relax and climbed out of the tree's branches. The girls had taken the hint that he didn't like being touched and, after twirling a few more circles around him, had shown him the way inside.

A short while later, he was walking into a strange, hazy room, his bundle still held protectively in his arms. The lady from earlier was lounging in a large, cushioned chair and smoking a pipe. Mildly, he wondered if the haze was from the wisps of smoke she exhaled, and if that would damage his lungs or his cargo's.

"What is your name?" she asked when he had settled down on a cushion one of the girls provided.

"Itachi," he heard himself say before he could stop himself. "Uchiha Itachi." (2)

"Welcome, Uchiha-kun." She gave him an undecipherable look before turning her attention elsewhere. "And the treasure in your arms?"

Itachi fought the urge to hold the bundle closer to his chest, like what his mother might have done when he was a baby.

"My brother," he finally answered, "Uchiha Sasuke."

Her lips quirked upward and Itachi unconsciously stiffened. "I'd welcome him too, but I see that you've placed him under sleep."

He shifted in his seat – an act of nervousness that steamed from his apprehension and betrayed his feelings. "If I may ask, who are you?"

The woman took another long drag from her pipe. "My name is Ichihara Yuuko, and you are in my store. I can grant any wish as long as I receive the right price." She smiled slyly as is sensing his thoughts as he watched the smoke rise up. "And don't worry. This smoke won't affect your lungs. It'll probably help heal your cuts, though."

Itachi watched her, trying to find any trace of a lie in her eyes. His Sharingan might not have been designed like the Byakugen to see the inner coils and read into deception, but he was damned good at reading other people's body languages anyway. Ichihara didn't seem to be lying, but he couldn't be too sure. (3)

It wasn't until he was evaluating her words that he suddenly noticed that he wasn't as tired as he was before, and that his head wasn't dizzy from blood loss. He looked at his left arm and noticed almost disbelievingly that his injuries were being healed by the tendrils of smoke in the room.

She seemed to wait for his analysis to be done, because as soon as he reached his conclusion that his eyes were playing tricks on him, she spoke up again.

"What is it that you desire?"

He turned his attention away from his arm and looked straight forward. "I want my family back," he instantly replied.

She paused as if mulling that idea over in her head. "That I cannot do. The dead will forever remain dead. And even if I had the means to do so, the price is much too great."

Itachi glanced down at his brother's sleeping face. "I want Sasuke to be safe," he said, coming up with the next best thing. "I want him to be strong enough to protect himself."

"Are you sure?"

The shinobi nodded, clutching his brother closer with a ferocity he never knew he had. "I don't want to lose the only family I have left."

"Very well. In exchange, I need compensation."

The black-haired boy glared. "I don't have any money."

Ichihara waved his response aside. "It's not money that I want."

"Then do you require my services?"

The shopkeeper laughed, amused by his offer. "Services of a shinobi? Ohohoho! That sounds marvelous!" She gave him a wry smile and shook her head. "But no, I need a payment that matches your wish."

"Meaning…?"

She leaned forward in her seat and even though he was halfway across the room, Itachi felt the need to scoot backwards. He beat down the urge, seeing that he was only being paranoid again.

"I need something important to you."

Itachi was pressed to find that something until he thought about how Orochimaru had been controlling his best friend.

"Then…what about my eyesight?"

"The Sharingan?" Itachi nodded, not raising the question of how this civilian knew of his bloodline. "Hmm. I suppose that will do."

"Right now?"

The woman raised a thoughtful finger to her chin. "No. I'll be acquiring your eyesight as the years go on."

"I see."

She made a motion and the two girls from earlier appeared by her side. One held an open scroll while the other carried a brush. They placed both before the shinobi. "Then, if you'll sign here, our contract will be established."

Itachi eyed the brush, wondering where the ink was before he moved to take it. "How will I be sure that I can trust you?"

"You can't," was her flat reply.

"Very well." He figured that the brush had some sort of jutsu in it, and he was proven right when he wrote his name and the ink appeared on the scroll in a reddish script. "Is that it?"

"No," Ichihara said, stuffing more opium into her pipe. "I also need you to write your brother's name."

"What for?"

"He is a part of the contract."

Itachi nodded. Her explanation made sense, even if this whole ordeal seemed like one big hoax. He had no idea just how the shopkeeper was going to collect his Sharingan over the years, since the only way to acquire it was to either be born as an Uchiha and activate it, or perform surgery and transfer it to another person like Uchiha Obito and Hatake Kakashi had.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he said as the ink dried and the girls picked up the contract and brush.

"What is it?"

"I want to know what will happen to him." Itachi didn't specify, but he had the feeling that the strange lady would know what he was referring to.

"I need payment." He had expected this.

"How about this?"

He reached around his neck and slipped off his ANBU mask – the one that he had been gifted with when he had become captain. One of the girls took the porcelain object and presented it to Ichihara.

The woman smiled, eyeing its decorations and carvings. "I like it. Sure." She got up from her seat and made her way to the Uchiha and gestured. "If I may?"

Itachi grudgingly let her take Sasuke from his arms.

"Truthfully," she said as she traced the outline of his face, "it depends on which path he will take, and that will be decided by you, since you have agreed to the contract. He has the potential to become one of the strongest shinobi of his days; depending on circumstances, his power might one day rival yours.

"However, his future lies on two paths. If you tell him the truth about the massacre, then you can be with him and train him personally. If you tell him a lie, then you will leave and he will seek after you for revenge. Either way, his path will cross the Snake's."

Itachi slammed his fist down, not noticing that he made a dent in the floor. "I signed the contract in order to keep him safe!"

"I know," she snapped in an impatient tone, and Itachi was forcefully reminded of his late mother when she was in her lecture mode. She sighed and began again, a little more calmly, "If you tell him the truth, then you will have to rescue your brother yourself. If a lie, then the Fox will do it for you. What ever the case may be, he will grow stronger."

Itachi didn't ask who the Fox was because he was running a mental list of anyone who might fit the descriptions (he ruled the Kyuubi out because the thought of a demon lending a human its help sounded preposterous and highly unlikely), but he trusted that the unknown person would at least be strong – strong enough to help his brother. (4)

He was startled out of his musings when Ichihara bent down to return Sasuke to him.

"You'll need to do something about him," she said. "You need to come up with an excuse about what happened."

"I know," he replied. He had placed Sasuke under a genjutsu so that the child would not struggle or make unnecessary noises during their escape.

"So, what will it be? The truth, or a lie?"

"Sasuke…" Itachi paused, his mind furiously working until it came to a conclusion – one that went against what he wanted, "will probably do better if I wasn't around to coddle him all the time."

"And…? What will you tell him? What will be the reason that his entire clan was murdered?" It seemed that Ichihara knew things she couldn't possibly have known under given circumstances, but Itachi was past the point of caring. And if she could see the future, then it wasn't really surprising that she could see other people's pasts.

But what to tell Sasuke? How was he going to make a believable lie that would fool not only the younger Uchiha, but the rest of Konoha? He was going to have to come up with something that the Hokage might be inclined to hold as truth.

Itachi's mind was suddenly taken to one of the days that Sasuke had been needling him for shuriken practice.

'_We are unique siblings. I am the barrier you must overcome, so you and I will continue to exist together,'_ he thought, recalling his exact words.

Itachi looked at the sleeping bundle that was Sasuke and slowly raised his head so that his eyes stared unflinchingly at Ichihara's.

_This was for the best._

"To test my _utsuwa_." (5)

She gave him a feral grin that reminded him of the infamous interrogator, Morino Ibiki.

"Very well. I will provide the means to deliver him safely. The rest is up to you."

_Even if it were a lie._

The shopkeeper then exited the room and the walls shifted and morphed, forming the exact replica of his house when he had left, down to the splatters of blood on the walls and the broken furniture thrown around.

His mind made up, Itachi turned on his Sharingan and stood, walking over to the door, his intended scenario playing out in his mind. He then set his brother down on the floor and unwrapped the blanket that he had draped around the sleeping eight-year-old. Placing a hand on his shoulder to wake him up, Itachi steeled his nerves and prepared the Mangekyou.

_Because by now, he had gone past the point of no return._

"You've always wanted to surpass me," he whispered as Sasuke's eyes met his and the boy was thrown into the world of illusions of the Tsukuyomi. "That's why I'm going to let you live."

_There would be no turning back._

He squashed the feeling of guilt that was threatening to rise up as he set the stage for the beginning of his brother's future. "If you want to kill me, despise me, hate me, and lead a loathsome life… run away, run away and cling to life."

Sasuke would only remember what Itachi wanted him to.

_No, none at all._

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Naruto

1. Oh god, I was laughing so hard at the cheesiness when I wrote this line. It reminded me of that one animated video about the dancing alien girl. (sweatdrops) Nvm…

2. So. Who thought I was talking about Sasuke at first? C'mon, I want to see how many of you I've tricked. XD

3. Yuuko is referred to as Ichihara because I don't think that Itachi would presume to call anyone by their first name (honorifics or no) in such a situation.

4. Ah, the irony. No?

5. Utsuwa: power, ability, what ever you wish to call it. The manga never really gave a reason _why_ Itachi killed his family except for the excuse he told Sasuke. So instead, I came up with this elaborate (cough) plan on what could have happened, had things gone differently than what we believed.

All other Japanese words or terms are from Naruto and refer to ninja clans, titles, weapons, and techniques.

When TVT made her request, I thought that it was a good idea. I immediately set out to write one that featured either Naruto or Sasuke and their wish to become acknowledged or stronger. In Sasuke's case, Naruto was going to be on the verge of death from one of their missions and Sasuke was going to have to leave Konoha and never return in exchange for saving his friend. I don't remember what I had planned for Naruto.

Blah. But then, I read a few fanfics (more like thirty) over the weekend that involved time travel and alternate dimensions, when I was suddenly hit with this idea instead. And I started writing, intent on getting at least a thousand words out of the shot. But as I kept writing, I realized that it wouldn't do if Itachi just showed up and started talking to Yuuko. So I had to create a back story.

And then it got waaaaaay too long – longer than my previous two shots combined! And after five hours and over four thousand words, it is finally finished! (collapses) Plus I was debating whether to put this under Crossroads, or submit it as its own complete one-shot.

Anyway, I hope it's to your liking! Please review?

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_December 05, 2006  
_


	4. The Beginnings

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic community, username: yatsuka.**  
**

**Title**: The Beginnings of a Journey  
**Rating**: G  
**Genre**: General, Crossover  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Inspiration**: The Chinese proverb, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."  
**Summary**: A two-part shot told from two different perspectives of a "chance" encounter. His wish was to travel and see all of the other worlds out there. And she could grant him that wish, if the price didn't kill him first.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

"The Beginnings of a Journey"

By Hikagi

* * *

Yuuko watched as a young, white-haired boy stumbled into her yard and tripped over a tree root. He was ridiculously cute and she resisted the urge to walk up and pinch him in the cheeks as old ladies were wont to do.

His friends were chasing him, but they stopped at the edge of her property. Apparently, they couldn't see anything save an empty plot of land, and that suited her just fine.

She had a customer to attend to, after all.

Gracefully, the Time Dimensional Witch rose from her place situated in the shadows and moved to greet her newest client. The boy stiffened at the swishing noise her clothes made and spun around.

"Who are you?"

Instantly, Yuuko was hit by how radiant his eyes were and in the chaos of the blue-green orbs, she saw something. A future of suffering and trials.

She saw him standing alone in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a darkness that had no end. She saw him shoulder the burdens of his sins as he attempted to atone for his past crimes.

She saw an ocean and his friend running up, reaching out to grab his hand. But their hands never met, and they were swept away from each other, the water swirling around them and pulling them apart.

She saw someone falling. Falling from the sky that had been the ocean before it had changed with the shifting atmosphere. Falling into a lonely, empty world. Falling into darkness.

But she blinked all of the visions away and introduced herself. He seemed to be intrigued at her title, and said that his name was Riku.

He asked her what this place was, and she replied that it was a shop that sold wishes. Only the people who had wishes could see and enter this place. He asked her if that was why his friends went away, and she nodded.

"Sometimes I see this strange door," Riku explained. "It's at our secret place, and it's always locked." He paused a little, almost hesitant about what he was going to say next. "When I ask the others, no one else can see it."

She asked him when he had started seeing this door.

"About a month ago. Right after Kairi got here."

She was intrigued because she could tell that this was some sort of portal or door that led to different dimensions, but she wasn't quite sure why it was there.

So she asked him, "Where is Kairi from?" thinking that that might give her some sort of clue.

But he gave a shrug. "I don't know. They say she came from far away. But she doesn't remember anything."

Yuuko didn't frown, but she didn't like where this was going either.

"_Is there a wish you want, Riku?"_

"_I want to travel to other worlds. I want to see everything that's out there."_

"_In compensation, you have to give me something in return…"_

If his wish was to travel worlds, then she could grant it. The way he would go about doing so would not require the usage of the Mokonas, because she had those in special reserve for certain someones in the times to come.

No, Riku would have to use the darker, more sinister method of traveling, and Yuuko wasn't sure if the idea was a good one, despite what her Sight was telling her. She didn't like exposing children to the darker side of magic where the stakes were higher and the consequences, deadlier.

The price was going to be very heavy.

Because most likely, this young boy was going to be dragged into an unavoidable situation; one of Fei Wong's colleagues were meddling in her affairs, seeking something that was better off left alone. This boy was going to lose something very important to him, if her visions were any indication. He was going to have to make choices in the future, and his decisions would affect the paths his friends would take.

But she had faith in him and his friends. Somehow, things were going to work out in the end.

Because he was going to be a Keyblade Master.

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Kingdom Hearts

I'm sorry that this shot is so short compared to my other ones.

There are so many things wrong with this, but my brain is in pieces at this point. Most of it is technical and has to do with KH and can be blamed on my lack of sleep.

Please review! They make me very, very happy. And if you haven't done so, go read the other side of this shot under In Consistencies, chapter 3.

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_February 05, 2007  
_


	5. The More it Changes

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic and crossovers100 communities, username: yatsuka.

Tired. Stressed out. Hungry. In pain. Therefore, fic!

My plot bunnies have a screwed sense of logic sometimes.

**Title**: The More it Changes… (The More it Stays the Same)  
**Prompt:** 59 - Food  
**Pairing**: N/A  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: General, Crossover  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Notes/Warning**: Not at all happy with how this fic turned out. It's lacking in a lot of ways. You'll see what I mean. And yes, I realize that in order for some of these things to happen, the characters need to be outside of their original settings. Please ignore.  
**Summary**: Hitsuzen, hitsuzen, hitsuzen. Blah, blah, blah. He'd heard it enough times already, so could you _please_ give him a break? It's not like anyone else is in a similar situation, right? Wrong.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

"The More it Changes…"

By Hikagi

* * *

Watanuki sighed when he entered the convenient store, wondering just how much longer it was going to take to fulfill his end of the contract he had made with Yuuko-san. By the way she made things sound, he might end up being stuck working at the store for the next fifty years or so.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he grabbed a nearby shopping basket and proceeded to head down the first aisle he came across. Ten minutes later, he had just about found everything on his list and was on his way to the instant coffee section when he bumped into another person, sending them both sprawling into a shelf of potato chips.

He apologized briefly, hoping not to incur the wrath of the other person, and set about rectifying the situation. Seeing that the unfortunate individual had dropped his basket of groceries, Watanuki hurriedly moved to help clean up the mess, picking up wayward bags of melon, shrimp, or onion-flavored goods along the way and restoring them to their original places.

He saw a pair of glasses nearby and assumed that they had been knocked off the boy when they had collided. Worried that he might have actually harmed the other teenager, Watanuki handed him the large-framed lenses and hoped that he wasn't too mad.

The stranger in question accepted his glasses with a thanks but froze upon seeing Watanuki's face. He blinked and gaped, raising a hand in astonishment before weakly stuttering something that sounded like, "K-kyo…"

Watanuki frowned. What was this boy trying to say? He had no idea how "today" was relevant to their collision, and couldn't see what prompted this response. (1)

"My name is Watanuki Kimihiro," he said as he bowed in apology. "I'm sorry about the accident. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"N-no, that's fine," the teenager replied, laughing shakily out of nervousness as he put his glasses back on. "You startled me, is all. I thought, for a second, that you were someone I knew. I am Fujioka Haruhi." They shook hands.

"Let me help you with the rest," Watanuki said, gesturing to the rest of the fallen groceries he hadn't managed to pick up yet.

"Ah, that'd be great. Thanks."

* * *

After their initial…_encounter_, they had decided to stick together for the remainder of their time at the supermarket. Watanuki couldn't help but notice that Fujioka-san's assortment of groceries were decidedly strange, to say the least.

Four cans of instant coffee, eight bags of melon-flavored potato chips, twelve packages of instant ramen or udon, a box of yogurt-flavored drinks, to name a few.

Who on earth was this guy shopping for?

…Then again, his own shopping basket wasn't that much better…

"Ah, Fujioka-san," Watanuki said sheepishly. "You wouldn't mind if I made a little detour and picked up something?" He made a hand motion in the direction of the liquor section of the store. "It's something my boss wanted."

He gave a nod of understanding. "What is your boss like?"

Watanuki snorted. "That woman is nothing but annoying and demanding and forces me to slave in every day, not caring if she's overworked me to death or has unreasonable requests or asks for the strangest things to satisfy her cravings!"

Fujioka chuckled, hiding his mouth behind his free hand in an attempt to be somewhat polite. "How did you end up working for her, then?"

"I have a debt of sorts that I have to pay."

"Ah, sounds like we're in the same situation."

"Pardon me?"

Fujioka closed his eyes and smiled, cocking his head sideways. "I broke a _happyaku man en_ vase." (2)

"_E-eight million?!"_

Somehow, Watanuki knew he wasn't lying, and now he wasn't sure who he felt more sorry for – himself, or the guy next to him.

"It belonged to my high school's Host Club. I'm working as a host for the time being because the others figured I could pay off my debt faster than if I was merely their errand boy."

He really didn't know what to say to that, except maybe, "Really? No offense, but you don't strike me as the type to…"

Fujioka laughed. "None taken. It's probably the glasses, right? I didn't feel like putting my contacts on this morning. And the others wouldn't recognize me as easily either."

"Oh."

* * *

It was about fifteen minutes later that the two found themselves to be at the cashier line. Fujioka gave a polite bow after they had paid for their groceries and left the supermarket.

"I'm headed that way," he said, pointing in a direction different than Watanuki's. "It was nice meeting you."

"Same here. I hope we meet again."

Fujioka laughed, somewhat nervously. "I'm not sure about that. I mean, life has been more than a little hectic, and my club is a bit on the psychotic side…"

"I'm sure that my boss and her underlings can take on your group any day."

Watanuki wasn't sure how long it had been since he had felt so… _normal_, for lack of a better word.

"Well then, thank you for today."

"Yes. You'd better get home before it rains."

"Rain?" Fujioka looked almost startled at that thought. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

"I'm sure it won't start for another hour or so."

He seemed to sigh in relief. "Really? That's good to hear. I… wouldn't want any of my things to get wet."

Then they parted ways, waving good bye as their feet took them in two different directions.

Watanuki had a notion that the other guy had it pretty hard, what with his situation and all. It felt somewhat encouraging that he wasn't the only one in this world who was having problems of an unusual type (even though Fujioka-san didn't seem like he'd be caught up in supernatural occurrences).

He had a feeling that they'd meet up again sometime in the future.

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Ouran High School Host Club

1. Kyo: Can mean a great deal of things. In this case, Watanuki took it to mean "today". Of course, Haruhi was stuttering out Kyouya's name. XD

2. Happyaku man en: Eight million yen. Roughly eighty-thousand dollars. Don't know about any other currency.

I realize that Haruhi's out of character. (grimaces) But I figured that she's naturally kind and gentle to strangers, and most of her straight-arrow comments affect the people who are hoping for certain reactions from her. And for those of you who don't know Ouran High School Host Club, Haruhi is a _girl_ (and Watanuki didn't notice! XD). You figure that out in the first chapter/episode.

On a completely random note, please don't be surprised if a few series come back around in the future. Some crossovers possibilities have more than a few scenarios that I liked, so you might see previously done crosses explored in a different way.

Coughcardcaptorsakuramostdefinitelywillcomebacksometimeinthefuturecough.

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_April 05, 2007_


	6. The First Step

Also posted on my LJ for the xxxholic and crossovers100 communities, username: yatsuka.

**Title**: The First Step  
**Prompt:** 28 – Children  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: General, Crossover  
**Disclaimer**: I own nada.  
**Inspiration**: The Chinese proverb, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."  
**Notes:** For those of you who recognize this, it used to be the third chapter of "In Consistencies" before I decided to delete the story. And since I'm frantically trying to prepare for school, I decided to upload it again. And like the third chapter of "Crossroads", it focuses on the not-Holic side of the story. XD

**Summary**: A two-part shot told from two different perspectives of a "chance" encounter. His wish was to travel and see all of the other worlds out there. And she could grant him that wish, if the price didn't kill him first.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Crossroads**

Chapter 06: "The First Step"

By Hikagi

* * *

Riku took a deep breath before slowly leaning out to chance a quick peek behind the corner of the building. Seeing none of his pursuers within his range of sight, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief as he slumped down to the ground and tried to come up with a strategy to outwit all of his opponents in a single maneuver.

That wasn't going to be an easy task, he realized. Not only were his enemies skilled, but they had been growing ever increasingly in strength and numbers. They were becoming faster and wiser to his tricks, side-stepping his attacks and traps with counters of their own. _(1)_

At first, it had started off with only one of them following him around; it had bothered and annoyed him, but had never really done him any harm. Then one grew to two, and two somehow multiplied to four, and with this newest recruit, there were a total of _five_ _monsters_ out to get him. And then it got tricky.

And despite trying to stay one step ahead of them, Riku knew that there were only so many people on the main land, and fewer children than he had wished. Coupled with the fact that he was about the only kid (or person under the age of seventy) who had white hair, he pretty much stood out wherever he went. He couldn't really blend in with the townspeople because of his appearances, and no one really wanted to be associated with him either.

Which meant that he wasn't going to be able to hide for much longer. And if They insisted on playing this twisted Game of hunting him down, then he was going to make it as inconvenient to them as was humanly possible.

"_Miistuketa!" (2)_

Riku heard the shrill shriek of proclamation before he registered its meaning. His body instinctively dodged and rolled out of the way when he heard the familiar sound of objects being catapulted in his direction. Not stopping for breath, he sprang off in the first direction that came to mind and was glad that he was in decent shape when he heard the splats of ammunition bursting on the slab of concrete he had occupied only a moment ago.

This didn't mean that his opponents were lazy. Oh, nonononono. In fact, Riku's athletic fitness served only to fuel them further, giving them the energy to keep on chasing after him, providing them the adrenaline to keep trying again and again. In a way, they reminded him of persistent flies – always buzzing around and never knowing when to quit.

Something whizzed by and grazed his ear, breaking his train of thought. Riku cursed his inattentiveness and vowed not to underestimate his opponents, because he knew that that sort of arrogance would lead to his downfall. Turning his head to look, he saw three figures eagerly give chase, yelling indistinguishable sentences in his direction. Riku paid their furious shrieks and cries no mind and ran even faster.

But soon, he was headed toward the heart of the city, and he slowed down just a little. He spotted civilians walking up and down the streets, seemingly not seeing (or even if they saw, not caring) about the white-haired kid nearby.

Another glance backwards showed that the two figures that had been missing before had managed to regroup with the other three, and all five were now hot on his heels. Riku took another four seconds to decide upon either running headfirst into the crowds and get innocent bystanders involved, or to veer off in another direction and hope for the best.

It wasn't really much of a choice.

Riku made a hard right at the next intersection and tried to find the closest hiding spot that would give him some time to evade his pursuers. His eyes spotted an open gate amongst all the other uninviting places and he dove at the opportunity.

He didn't see the tree root until it was too late. "Too late" meaning that his feet had tripped over something and he went flying, the momentum propelling his body to keep going forward. Flinching, Riku braced himself for impact as the ground rushed up to meet him and was rewarded with a scraped knee.

He didn't give it much thought because he heard the all-too-familiar voices closing in on his location. With dread, he slowly turned his head towards the open gate and waited for the inevitable to happen.

"_-ent this wa-"_

This was it. The Game was over. They were going to find him and torture him mercilessly.

"_-aw him turn ri-"_

Perhaps they would give him a quick Death. But you never knew, because sometimes they liked taking their captives back to their base live and watched as they Died slowly. It really depended on who was leading the group.

"_Found you!"_

Riku tensed, seeing his opponents' faces appear from behind the wooden fence, and waited for their attacks, his nerves tingling and blood pounding in his ears. He expected them all to jump at him at once, pelting him with more Bullets than he could dodge. He expected them to surround him and watch with joyful glee as he fell before their feet.

What he didn't expect was what happened next.

Sora skidded to a stop before the gate and looked around. "Eh? Hey Tidus, he's not here!"

"What?!" The light-haired boy didn't believe his friend and scanned the area as well. "But I was so _sure_ that he went this way!"

Wakka came next, juggling three unidentifiable objects in one hand and spinning his blitz ball in the other. "Maybe he went further up? Let's go check it out!"

"Aw, c'mon!" That was Selphie. And she was lagging behind, not used to the strenuous running. Kairi followed the others at a more sedate pace, bringing up the rear. "Why do you guys like playing this game?"

Sora grinned. "That's 'cuz I wanna catch him quick and shoot him with more Bullets!"

"Only _you_ would come up with a name so ridiculous for a water balloon, Sora."

Next to the young irritated girl, the Mayor's daughter stifled a laugh. "Be nice, Selphie. After all, isn't this version of Hide and Go Seek much better than last time?"

"If the boys ever try to fill these balloons up with dye again, they'll be lying with their faces in the sand for the rest of the week!"

"Hey, we apologized for that yesterday!"

"Hmpf!"

"Anyway," Tidus grumbled. "He's not here. Let's go."

"Wow. Thanks for stating the obvious." Apparently Selphie was still bitter about the Ink incident. Go figure. "But I'm getting bored of this game. And besides, Kairi hasn't seen the rest of the town, right? I could just take her around and show her all the cool places!"

"What, we're not cool enough for you?" Tidus retorted. By now, Sora and Wakka sighed and collectively shook their heads as Kairi watched the other two argue with a hint of amusement.

"She's only been here for a few weeks! And there's only so many times you can drag Riku along and force him to play with us, even if he _is_ cooler than all of you put together."

"Hey! Take that back! We're so much better than him."

"No way. I betcha that he's found a place to hide."

"As if!"

"Oh yeah? What would you do if he _is_ hiding in there?"

"That's impossible. There's nothing there – just a bunch of rocks and grass."

"You're just jealous that he's so much better at this game than you will ever be!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are t-"

"Well, you gotta admit," Wakka interrupted as they all turned and meandered in another direction. "It _would_ be hard for even Riku to hide in the middle of an empty yard. There isn't even a house here!"

Riku found himself blinking at their retreating backs and checked his surroundings once more.

He was in an "abandoned" yard. His friends had not seen him, despite the lack of anything to shield him from their vision. His friends had not seen _anything_ else in the area, including the old house behind him.

Which meant… Well, something weird, _that_ was for sure. Like the Door in their Secret Place.

A sound caught his attention and Riku spun around to face the new…potential threat.

"Who are you?" he asked, noting that the person was a woman with long black hair.

"I am the keeper of this store." She made a gesture at the small building behind her. "I have been called Ichihara Yuuko by some, and the Time Dimensional Witch by others."

Riku paused, his eyes dancing with curiosity. "Time Dimensional Witch?"

She nodded. "Yes. And you are?"

Here, the young boy didn't know quite what to say. His mother had told him never to talk to strangers, but this lady seemed like a nice person and wasn't yelling at him for stepping on her land.

But then again, his mother had also told him not to run around on busy, crowded streets playing games that might get him hurt.

"Riku," he answered.

Then they talked for a little bit, and Riku found that he was slowly changing his opinion about adults being boring and stuck up. This woman wasn't like that at all; she was interesting to talk to. She didn't laugh at him when he said that he had seen a door that no one else could see.

A few minutes later, she asked him a question.

"Is there a wish you want, Riku?"

Riku knew that when she said it, she wasn't just talking about little things like toys or a new wooden sword or a paopu fruit. She was talking about bigger things. And he also didn't doubt that she could make anything come true, because she wasn't like some of the other people that said stuff and didn't make it happen.

More than anything in the world, he wanted to know where Kairi came from. How she had gotten here to Destiny Islands. He wanted to know if there were other places, other worlds out there that were just waiting to be discovered.

"I want to travel to other worlds. I want to see everything that's out there."

The woman gave him a smug smile.

"In compensation, you have to give me something in return…"

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with Kingdom Hearts

1. I love doing this to people. (grins) How many of you thought it was the Heartless/Nobodies?

2. _Miitsuketa!_: "I found it/him/her!" Yeah, yeah – even though the game's been dubbed in English, I like the Japanese voices better. Plus it would have ruined the effect because English is a wonky language.

Yes, this shot is when the KH cast are all younger. The first real hint is when Selphie metions Kairi being new to the area. And sorry for the incredibly rushed job. I was struck with this idea (meaning that it would not leave me alone) right before my first big History exam, and thus was _inspired_ to get it done quickly.

Reviews encourage me to write more. (hint hint)

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_August 26, 2007  
_


	7. Cursed

**Title:** Cursed

**Prompt:** 92 – Christmas

**Inspiration:** reading manga when I should have been writing a paper and creating an animation for class.

**Spoilers:** Yes. A little. Most of the shot takes place pre-series, but there are hints (and a few blatant mentions) here and there towards the end.

**Summary:** The ones left behind are always the ones who suffer the most. Yuuko knows this, but she is powerless to help unless there is a coinciding wish.

* * *

_Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven._

_Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter._

**Cros****sroads**

Chapter 07: "Cursed"

By Hikagi

* * *

Tonight is the new moon, and the stars have come out to play. They shine brightly, like little beacons of hope amidst a great sea of emptiness. They flicker as they call to each other in voices so soft that humans have no chance of discerning them.

Yet, Ichihara Yuuko finds herself gravitating towards the small koi pond in her back yard for reasons that are only half-formed and fleeting. There is no real purpose for the almost senseless roaming save for a small tugging whisper that tells her, _this way, this way, soon, closer, please, please, please, this way._

The stars are calling.

_This way._

When she finally does peer into the waters, the tiny ripples form scenes of a world that is on the verge of collapse. There, mere children are sent out to fight against horrific creatures that leech off of anguished souls. The screams of the damned grow louder with each passing moment, even though she cannot hear them cry out through the mute images.

There are many who are willing to fight, but only a few who are capable. Yuuko knows this, because she cannot grant everyone the ability to fend off monsters, even if they desperately wish to. They have neither the resolve, nor the proper payment.

Even so, their organization tries to create more weapons to fight. With each experiment comes only another life lost, another soul bound to damnation from the judgment of the God they supposedly serve.

And the ones left behind are the ones who suffer for those failures.

The images fade out, and Yuuko walks away from the pond.

* * *

The next time she gets a glimpse of that world, it is Christmas Day. She is sitting on her porch, drinking the last of the night's _sake_. The stars are calling again, and she waits patiently until the images start swimming in front of her vision.

There is another one – another child.

Somewhere in that cold, depressing world, he is alone. He has lost his only relation, and is staring blankly at nothing in front of the man's grave. To him, it seems, there is no longer any reason to live. Yuuko cannot intervene even though she knows what is coming next, because she has seen it happen so many times before.

_A large shadow cast by an ominous full moon._

_Soft footsteps muted by the snow._

_A wide, falsely cheerful smile and a pair of glasses perched atop a long, blunt nose._

_Ears too pointed to be human._

_Cold, malevolent eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. _

_A voice that offers the world – a second chance – to a broken spirit._

"_Mana Walker. Shall I resurrect him for you?"_

Yuuko watches as the boy continues to walk down the dangerous path of destruction and sees the child call out towards his father. She watches as the damned soul is brought back to life. She watches as the child is cursed.

_The ones left behind are the ones who suffer the most._

Cursed with slashed eye and a pentacle carved into his flesh.

_Suffer._

In that instant, she grants the unspoken wish of Mana Walker, a man who had shown love toward an abandoned child with a disfigured arm, and has consequently changed a part of history with that small act.

She allows Allen's Innocence to awaken for the first time.

"_Destroy me."_

"_No, not him!"_

"_I love you."_

One hundred nine pieces, and only nineteen conformers chosen.

The price has not been fully paid, but she has already received some payment for her services. The rest, she can collect later, even though only a few from that world are aware of her existence. Many do not even know why or how they have come to be 'chosen' by their Innocence, or even the makings of them.

She thinks that the Bookman probably does; him and his young red-haired protégé. Perhaps a few members of the Noah clan as well, but she hasn't come across any of them in many years.

She takes one more look at the floating images before she waves an arm and they fade away.

Yuuko knows that this child will become someone great. His curse offers many blessings, though he will not see it as such until much later. She also knows that if he is indeed to become the "destroyer of time" as will be prophesized in the future, she has to watch his path from time to time.

However, she is satisfied for the day.

Yuuko turns and walks away, content to spend the rest of the night with Maru and Moro. There is no one else here to spend the holiday season with, after all.

* * *

It isn't until years later when she meets a boy who is cursed with seeing spirits, that she remembers about Mana Walker's curse. And when said boy loses an eye to a spider spirit and forms a connection to his supposed rival, she sees more similarities building up.

Still, as Christmas draws around for the first time since her newest charge enters her life, she is extremely pleased with the outcomes of both Watanuki Kimihiro and Allen Walker.

"_Yuuko-san, you should stop drinking."_

"_Stop drinking, he says!"_

"_Stop drinking, stop drinking!"_

"_Nonsense. One more toast!"_

"_Hai, hai."_

"_Kanpai! To a long life!"_

"_Kanpai!"_

"_Long life, long life!"_

"_Yo, Watanuki! One more for me as well!"_

"_How is it that a small manju bun like you can hold so much liquor?!"_

At least, for the time being.

Who knows what the future would bring?

* * *

The ones left behind may suffer, but those who are gone will live on through the survivors' memories.

Yuuko has no doubt that the war between the Noah and the Order will reap much destruction, but she allows herself to think that as long as everyone has something to fight for, things will turn out for the better.

The Millenium Earl is not the only one to have plans, after all.

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

Crossed over with D. Gray-Man

Don't look at me. I have no idea why I wrote a Christmas-related (though, only vaguely) shot _halfway across the year_. Blame it on my sister, who has gotten me stuck on reading -man manga again.

Originally, I wanted to use the 'moon' or 'star' prompt, but then I couldn't find a way to close the piece.

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_June 24, 2008_


	8. Consequences

**Premise: **Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven. Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroads, each path leading him to a different encounter.

**Series:** xxxHOLiC/Narnia, mentions of other works

**Prompt:** trees

**Rating: **K+ / PG

**Inspiration:** I left this fic alone for a very long time, and was re-inspired by Patrick Rothfuss's _The Name of the Wind_. (And on a side note, my computer tried to correct his name to "Rufus" – I'm not sure I want to read a book published by ShinRa, thank you.)

**Spoilers:** Not much for HOLiC; set before the end of the manga. Yes for Narnia (parts of _The Magician's Nephew _and a tiny mention of the Pevensie children), plus a lot of blink-and-you-might-miss-it references to other works.

**Chapter Summary: **Yuuko watches (and sometimes nudges things along) as history unfolds, and events that have been set in motion come to a close.

* * *

**Cros****sroads**

"Consequences"

By Hikagi

* * *

_Ponds and puddles  
__And ripples in time;  
__A world between worlds  
__Of forest and pine._

* * *

_She is dreaming again; dreaming of the first time she had walked through murky depths and splashed in not-waters, of shallow abysses and clear, hazy skies and the smell of dull pine in a bright, sunless afternoon; dreaming of solid faded colors and swirling, muted sounds that die in the air and whisper into nothingness even though her ears only hear the pounding of fading adrenaline and blood in her veins; dreaming of a quiet, sleepy, soulless forest that thrums with life from every leaf and branch. The air feels heavy with purpose even as it lulls her into an eternal sense of peace and serenity._

_Somehow she realizes that this cannot be right. This is hardly the first time. "First time" implies that she has never been here before, that she has never lain eyes on these trees and these ponds. This is not true because she is too comfortable in these woods for it to be unfamiliar. She knows that the woods are both older and younger than they seem, and that this place is so very special in a way she cannot name. And yet, this is everywhere while being nowhere at all._

_"First time" also implies that there is a second, or that the number of her visits can be counted by human means._

_This… cannot be true. Perhaps. Possibly. Maybe._

_She is sure that she has always been here, even from the moment she had been born. Or is it before even then? Has there ever been a time where she has not walked these woods?_

_The woods feel like Home. They fill her veins with a sense of belonging, as if she can just relax and forget all of her troubles. No, that cannot be right either. There are no troubles here; she does not even know what they mean, or why the word exists. It is not possible for her to relax. Relaxing implies that she is coming from a state that is not so, that she needs to let go of tension. _

_The woods fill her head with a sense of sleepiness._

'Just a dream,'_ she tells herself after a very long time (or is it a short time? It is getting hard to tell) of staring at nothing, even though she sees the muted vibrant colors swirl around her. _'Only a dream_._ A regular, ordinary, everyday(_night?_) dream.'

_But she knows that it's more than_ just_ a dream. It is one of Those Dreams – the kind she used to have back when she believed that unicorns, fairies, centaurs and talking trees were real…_

_(No, not so much the unicorns or fairies. She never had had the chance to meet any of their kind. One of the Queens or Kings might have had the opportunity, but the poor children had been so very lonely after coming back that she had not had the heart to ask about their adventures. But from her own recollections, the talking trees had been there, of course, but that had hardly been out of the ordinary. After all, if griffons, centaurs, and fauns had been a regular occurrence – and they Talked just like all the other animals – then who said that the trees couldn't be Alive just like any of the other citizens?) _

_The water here is precious, she knows. They come from many different places – flow to many different others. She has not had the chance to drink or (tasteseehearsmellwatchlook) any of it, for all its abundance. She fears that if she drinks it, she will become like the rest of the woods: quiet, sleepy, dead-but-alive._

_Because the water is sleepy._

_(Sleepy waters grow sleepy trees which, in turn, produce sleepy air, all of which is accented by a sleepy sun.) _

_And despite all of her dreaming, she does not want to sleep. Not like this._

_There will be plenty of time for that later._

('Plenty of time when I'm dead.')

* * *

Yuuko watches the scenery from the window of her living room, staring past the haze of smoke that sits and hovers in the air. It is a gloomy day outside with low, heavy clouds and temperatures that are slightly cooler than comfortable. The occasional people walking past are wearing thick coats that are as gray as the sky, the ground, the buildings, their personalities. But that is the outside this particular frame shows her, and she knows that if she turns around to look out another window, she will see the tops of a frigid mountain covered in snow, waves of heat rising from the ground of desert plains, or even the nighttime skyline of a city that has yet to be. If she so wishes.

(Ah, perhaps that is the wrong word to use. "Wish" is a word that mortals use in unfitting situations when they are actually trying to convey something else. Perhaps "choose" is a better choice, given that her notion is not so much a Wish because it lacks that earnest weight that drives her soul.)

(Also, it is unwise in some areas – not within her own domain, of course – to use the word "wish" lest other beings take an unhealthy interest in playing with mortal destinies.)

It is a simple concept, one that is much harder to put into practice, but she has had years to get it done right. Nowadays, she finds that she has forgotten some of the basic rudimentary spells because it has been so long since she has learned to cast them, and hardly any of her clients require her to do something as mundane as light a fire or spell wind into a bag. No, most of her clients want or need things from the archives of her storage room.

Speaking of which, the wards spelled into that area of the shop are beginning to fray. She should see to it soon. (But not too soon – not Now, at least, but Later.) After all, even a full-time housemaid would not be able to sift through the dimensions of the payments she has received. …Though Watanuki would probably stiffen and bristle at being called such. (But Watanuki is not here at the moment, so she will have to settle for teasing him when he returns instead.)

She has a hunch – more like a small feeling in her gut – that she's going to need something from that room by the end of the day.

She knows that her hunches have been more right than not, so she sighs and rises from her couch – a payment from a poor, childless carpenter who had nearly poured his soul into his craft – and starts to purposefully wander through the hallways, making tiny adjustments to give her shop the illusion of something other than its current appearance.

* * *

_She is afraid. Afraid of what is happening, even though she tries not to show it. Afraid of what is going to happen. Afraid of all the creeping shadows, of too-loud noises, of the slightly dusty smell of the air, and of the uncomfortable presence hanging on her shoulders._

_But her friend is not – at least, he doesn't seem like he is. So she pushes on ahead, trying not to be outdone. They walk on for what seems like an eternity, counting and counting, forever and ever…_

"Is it five hundred yet?"

"No, that was four hundred and twenty."

"How much further?"

"Just a little bit."

_Always just a little bit more._

('I'm afraid,' she doesn't say.)

(Neither does he.)

_They don't say anything else as shadows wane and grow as their candlelight flickers in the darkness._

* * *

Yuuko finds herself outside of her shop, fixing up some of the wards that are woven into her fences. There isn't anything really wrong with it, but her Sense tells her that this is where she ought to be, and that it's (s_oonsoonsoon, almostthere, justalittlebitmore)_.

Unfortunately, when the humans had "industrialized" and started religiously sticking to their clocks, the spiritual world had carried on like always (like a flowing river, as strong – and sometimes, invasive – as the roots of a great willow tree), uncaring for all the obstacles in its way. Time, she knows – especially for one such as herself – is a relative thing, as a colleague had liked (likes – will like) to say.

So she decides to do something productive during the wait and prods at her seals, smoothing over the tiny gaps and ruffles in the spellwork that Maru and Moro have not been able to detect. She notes with pride that her perception filters are as strong as ever and that – barring an intrusion of an opposing filter of the same caliber – it should hold against just about anything. (Though that isn't to say that she _wants _to test that theory out.)

She doesn't keep track of the time – not in the sense that mortals would; there are no clocks ticking away, no dials to track the movement of the sun – but it isn't long until the wind shifts and hovers expectantly in the air. Yuuko hears just a little bit of its whispers and sees a woman walking down the curb on her side of the street.

By the time the woman is within speaking distance, Yuuko already knows a lot about her, from her own observations and also from what the wind says. (The wind is such a useful thing – it is a shame that _He_ has already created an embodiment of it, otherwise she might have been tempted to create one herself – she's too prideful to merely "borrow" it, because that implies that it must be returned in the future, and that option is moot anyway because _He_ is no longer its master.) It is amazing what one can learn when one _listens_.

_young-but-not,_ the wind whispers, although it is hard to tell.

_proud. confident. arrogant, even. snooty. condescending. conceited._

_"intellectual." "sage." "better-than-others."_

_And _she has fairy blood. Trace amounts, perhaps, but still there all the same. She is an interesting person, indeed.

"Good day," Yuuko says in greetings, careful to remain solemn and politely distant while watching the whispers swirl around the other. By now, she knows that these words/voices/thoughts/feelings are not _just_ the wind (but it's a close representation nevertheless), but the opinions of the people the woman has connections with. They are what some call _reputation_ or _image_, be they perceived by others or self-cultivated – but they are also so much _more _than just that.

The woman nods, showing only a slight amount of disdain at being addressed by a "commoner" before returning the salutations. "Good day to you as well." She pauses, her mouth dropping into a small not-yet frown while her eyebrows crinkle on her forehead. "If I may ask, I've never seen you around before."

Yuuko understands the intention behind the statement, and offers a slight bow in return. "Yuuko Ichihara," she says, "I run an antique shop-" she gestures to the house behind her, "and hardly step out unless I'm on urgent business."

"Oh. I see." The woman is curious and slightly condescending of the fact that Yuuko's name is _foreign,_ which is amusing because despite her superiority complex (_she thinks her magic blood makes her special_, say the whispers), she doesn't seem to see all the wards and spells woven into the fence. "I am… Lefay," she says, completely dropping her given name. "I was visiting the Ketterleys – or, at least, trying to. They live just next door, but everyone is out at the moment. I suspect," this time, her mouth pinches into an obvious frown, "they do not approve of me."

Yuuko's lips twitch into what some (human) customers might mistaken for a smile, and she moves to hold the fence open. "Then why don't you come in, Ms. Lefay? I have some excellent tea that is not widely available in stores. Special imports from China and elsewhere."

Lefay seems to be torn between accepting the invitation at the prospect of the tea, and declining due to the fact that Yuuko clearly doesn't seem to belong to the neighborhood.

"My mother used to collect… rare items," she says haughtily. "If you don't mind, I would like to take a look around at your shop." The words _but I doubt I'll find anything _aren't said, but Yuuko reads them clearly on the swirling whispers.

"Not a problem," Yuuko says, leading the way. "I have a few special wares in storage that might catch your interest. If you would follow me."

When something _does_ catch Lefay's interest, Yuuko knows that her hunches from before are being proven true. This time, it's a small box (_Alterean,_she recalls) sitting on an otherwise empty shelf. At first glance, the box seems unremarkable, but Lefay keeps gravitating towards its general vicinity even after she passes by the shelf at least four separate times.

_it's from Atlantis, the lost city,_ the whispers say to them, though only Yuuko fully understands. Lefay can barely hear the words in her close-(heart-sight) mindedness, but she is nevertheless affected by the quiet tension that hangs around them and the slight tingle of magic when she reaches out to touch the box._ it has something that's been brought from Elsewhere. everything inside has once been in another world – another Nature, another universe; somewhere where you would never reach even if you traveled through the space of this universe for ever and ever – a world that could be reached only by Magic_.

("There is a price.")

("I can pay.")

("There are _consequences_.")

("I can handle them.")

In the end, Lefay takes the box with her.

* * *

_He doesn't like the look on his uncle's face, but he doesn't know what it means, or why it makes him nervous. He's seen those looks before – always when they are in the same room together, and his uncle seems like he's not entirely there._

_Always that same, calculating, ugly, terrifying, greedy look that makes him want to run away and hide – to crawl away so that they aren't in the same room, or even same house anymore._

_He doesn't even want to be here at this moment either, but he has no choice. _She_ is here as well, and it's all his fault that they are in this mess together. It's so much worse because she doesn't _understand_ his uncle – has never seen him until just now, and he can't warn her without escalating the situation further._

_He is determined that they get out of this mess together, and doesn't realize just how much trouble he is going to experience because of his foolish notion._

(And they had been getting along so well just before, too.)

_But bonds are not so easily broken, not when there are things in store for them; things that are planned – have been planned for quite some time – and are only now being set into motion._

* * *

Some time later, Lefay comes back; she's much older now – not that it really shows – but that doesn't really mean much because Yuuko's shop exists in a dimension outside of time.

"Ms. Lefay," Yuuko greets upon answering the door and ushers her guest-costumer in.

"It's Mrs., now," she corrects.

"You got married?" Yuuko asks, as Watanuki sets the table and wordlessly (huh – she feels like she should make a quip about flying pigs, but then recalls a winged yellow guardian that fits that description too closely) retreats to the kitchen.

"No," Lefay says between sipping her tea, "but it is apparently frowned upon for a lady to remain unmarried past a certain age."

(_consequences_)

It goes without saying that there is no husband, just as there had been no wedding – but then, strangers would never know that she is still using her maiden name.

"I see."

"Which reminds me – you haven't seemed to have changed since the last time I saw you all those years ago." Lefay's eyes narrow and she gives off a very good impression of a hawk's glare. "What _are_ you?" She doesn't say _do you have fairy blood_, but it's easy to hear it in her (whispers) voice.

Yuuko grins, and it's a sharp, biting gesture. "Now _that_ would be telling."

* * *

'There's something in the air,'_ she decides. Something humming through the air, even though she does not know what noise it is making, or how it is possible._

_It's… not even humming, really. Just this sound (or a not-sound-feeling-sense) that reverberates through the air and is too beautiful for words._

_She forgets that there is anything else in this room, that there is a boy standing behind her, trying to call her name. That there is a man – a magician – who has an ugly look on his face, beckoning her closer._

Closer to the sound. Closer to the humming.

_She wants to hold it, so she reaches out to grasp the light. As she gets closer, she notices for the first time, that the sound is somehow _yellow_, that the humming has a specific color, and it tingles through her fingers as they wrap around…_

_"No, wait –" the boy _('Oh, that's right, he was right next to me until...') _ shouts with what sounds like a hint of desperation, "Polly!"_

_And then, she is gone._

* * *

She sees Lefay once more, but their conversation is short (a pity – she enjoys the little bits of _newsgossipinformation _people unintentionally bring with them) in comparison to their previous encounters.

"The Ketterleys are expecting a baby."

(_consequences,_ the whispers say)

"Is that so."

"As the only other person who is connected to their family, they want me to be its godmother."

(_it's going to be a boy_)

"Congratulations."

They don't talk about the box she still has in her possession (_consequences_), nor her fascination with its magic and origins (_consequences_). Yuuko understands the power of obsession (_consequences_) and how it seeps into a person's soul and corrupts (_consequences_) everything it touches.

"I suppose, then," Lefay acknowledges in regards to this new change in her life, "we will see more of each other in the coming years. I imagine I will be visiting my godchild on occasion, and seeing as how you live next door…"

"Perhaps," Yuuko acquiesces politely. She looks into the whispers, and there is a feeling of _bitterregretapology, iwaswrong,_ and _change_ that is yet to come.

(_consequences, __consequences, __consequences,_ the whispers repeat)

She knows this is the last time they will ever meet.

* * *

_She realizes too late that she's made a terrible mistake. Her pride had been her downfall, and for all her magic, she cannot turn back time. Still, there is one last thing she needs to do before she passes on, and she can't help but wish that it doesn't come too soon; the time she has spent in prison has rendered her weak and feeble with hardly enough energy to even move properly._

_"Dear child," she calls out to the boy by her bedside. "I need you to do me one last favor."_

_Because Andrew – sweet Andrew – has more magic than the rest of his family members combined and would have the power to do what is needed if she herself cannot see to it._

_"I need you to find my box," she says after contemplating. "And get rid of it."_

_As she continues talking, she hopes that he follows her instructions, but she is also aware that Andrew is too much like how she used to be (and isn't that ironic after all the time she _hasn't_ been around). She also knows that it is ultimately his choice, and can only hope that he will _listen_ (with more-than-ears, like she herself never had) to her._

_But as she watches how he hangs on to her every word, his eyes gleaming with an emotion akin to greed and longing, somewhere in the back of her mind (and her sinking heart) , she also knows that there is a great chance that he will _not.

'Consequences indeed.'

* * *

Watanuki watches as the strange man (he feels so _old_ even though he looks young, and his clothes are so _odd_) leaves the shop, feeling a queer sense of heaviness settle on his shoulders. "Who was that?"

Yuuko turns away from the door, saying, "A man who has seen too much for one day."

Watanuki blinks, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the air of gloom (he has sad eyes – I wonder what has happened?) . "What was he doing here? He's not a customer, is he?"

She pauses, eyeing the box in her hands. "No, not really. Not in the sense you're accustomed to. He was just a kind person who saw children die right in front of him in a train wreck." She gives it to Watanuki, adding, "This was in the hands of one of those children."

He takes it reverently, saddened by the news of another's death. "Then how did he see the shop?"

"That box and its contents were supposed to be returned to me after another customer's death, but it got… delayed in the process. Fortunately," she draws this word out (and Watanuki thinks she means _hitsuzen _instead), "that man saw the note she left for further instructions in the event that it got lost." In Lefay's handwriting too, though Yuuko has the feeling that her godson had not been able to see it, else wise it would have been burned at the first opportunity. "I suppose he wanted to do a good deed in light of the horrific accident he just witnessed. _That _was his wish."

"Where is he from?" Watanuki asks as he weighs the box in his hand. There's a light clinking sound as something – probably metal – moves around inside.

Yuuko takes an extra long drag from her pipe before exhaling, watching as the smoke shifts between shapes (she has never been able to match Olórin's talent, but not for a lack of trying). "London, of course."

Watanuki blinks for a moment, not truly comprehending. "But… he was speaking Japanese!"

"_Was _he?" She manages to smirk around the mouthpiece. "My clientele would be severely limited if I stuck to only Japanese-speaking customers. What – you think when you converse with the supernatural, they are talking to you in your own language?"

"But – London!" (And in his mind, _'Train accident? Huh? Did anyone ride honest-to-goodness trains anymore?'_) "How did he get all the way over here?"

She looks at him, raising an eyebrow. "You've seen people appear from different dimensions and the spirit world, and you're surprised about transcontinental travel?"

"But… _London_!" It seems a bit ridiculous, and objectively, Watanuki knows he sounds like an idiot for repeating the same thing multiple times. (_Would Doumeki have a field day if he knew.) _

"Yes." Yuuko waves a hand in dismissal of the thought. "And nearly a century from the past too, I believe." She pauses before adding, "At least, _your _past."

"_London_?"

Now there is a definite smirk on the witch's face. "Did you think that this shop was located in Japan? I thought you would have known better than that. I am the Time Dimension Witch. There are quite a number of places this shop is connected to."

Watanuki gapes for a few seconds before his brain finally catches up to him. "Wait, _my _past?" Somehow, he manages to not drop the box in his hand during his flailing. "There is no '_my_ past' – there is only _the _past!"

Yuuko looks entirely too smug for comfort. "Yes. _Your_ past. Time is not strictly a linear thing." She then says something (approximately:_"Uiibori-uaabori, taiimi-uaiimi,"_) in a sort of sing-song, rhyming pattern, but it's not Japanese because it has too many _sounds _('Consonants,' he recalls from his foreign language classes). "In some ways, this shop exists outside of bounds. _Theoretically _speaking, we could walk out of one of the doors that is currently connected to… let's say, Eighteenth Century, France."

_Only _in theory, of course. But no, that would mean that she would cross paths with a big rift in time, and she has no particular want to do such a thing.

The consequences (_consequences_) are too dire for such a trivial thing.

* * *

'There is a lion,'_ she thinks, blinking at the sun. But no, that cannot be right because the sun is not-here-over-there and the light is coming from somewhere entirely too close to the ground to be mistaken as the sun._

'Why is there a lion here?'

_He does not belong in this environment, but at the same time, she cannot deny that he does._

_But he does not seem to be like a real lion. He is much too big and more majestic than any creature she has ever encountered._

_"Daughter of Eve," he says with a voice that seems to rumble the very trees around her, stirring them awake in a sense that she has not felt before. "It is time for you to awaken."_

_She listens as the lion gestures to the calm, rippling pond between them, seeing how the waters are more familiar than she has originally expected._

It is time for you to awaken.

* * *

Yuuko knows that Watanuki is a special child, but she can't help but notice that for all of his uniqueness, he has a narrower mind than is appropriate. Even so, she puts up with it because really, it's more amusing than it is annoying, and she does love to see him flustered and exasperated.

Especially when he starts to rant and turn all manner of red in the face.

So when she gets another _feeling_ _(wishwishwish, Ineedsomething, greedyalwayslookingformore) _that usually means a customer is on its way, it is due to more than just strictly business matters she sends him off on another errand for more tempered beverages and "Something tasty! I want some good food for tonight!"

But as soon as her indentured servant is out of the door, she loses her smile. At another door is an impossibly tall woman (though her height is not merely a physical one) who holds more power than she should have. Power that is not hers to control and wield, power that is contradictory. Power that the woman has not given payment for, and, given the nature of the whispers that seep through the walls, has no intention of doing so. And yet, she is still looking for more.

However, that is not her concern. Hitsuzen has a way of coming around (_consequences_) , and so Yuuko is not worried about the balance that is tipped too heavily towards this woman (_cold,_ the whispers say. _she brings with her unending cold and death and heartache_) because eventually, a pendulum that swings to one side must come back to the other. In the meantime, Yuuko will have to wait.

(_she hurts them with her words and cruelty and lieslieslies_)

But not for long.

(_she brings winter and chill and snow and ice and storms-_)

Because there are always consequences.

(-_but there will be spring_)

_Fin._

* * *

Author's Notes:

I _love_ playing around with Holic – I think by the time I'm done (if I _ever_ get done) with this challenge table, _Crossroads_ will be a weird sort of expanded multi-verse thing.

Why is there no "align right" option?

Also, according to FFN's options, Mrs. Lefay is apparently not a "character" in the Chronicles. XD

How many different references can you find? Name the book/series/whatever plus the idea/reference – a drabble goes to the first person who can correctly spot them all! (If you find an unintentional reference to something I'm not familiar with, I would love to find out so that I can get acquainted with it.)

Other Inspirations:

_The Deplorable Word_: Jadis said she had _"learned it in a secret place and paid a terrible price to learn it," _though she did not say what the price was. (My reaction was: "OmgshegotitfromYuuko!") Also, the exact word is never revealed.

_The Wood Between the Worlds_ (and) the _Magic Rings_: Because really, those two things are just _waiting_ for a Holic or Doctor Who (see: Magic Wardrobe) crossover.

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_Originally posted on: November, 2011_

_Re-uploaded on: February 2012_


	9. One More Day

**Premise:** Working at Yuuko's shop was like walking down a winding road. Sometimes the ground was straight, sometimes, uneven. Every once in a while, he would stumble across a crossroad, each path leading him to a different encounter.

**Series: ** xxxHOLiC/Ouran

**Prompt: ** 34 – Not enough. (Wanted to also use 21 – friends… Can't I use both? D: )

**Rating:** PG13 – for some language, implied violence, and… stuff.

**Genre:** Yuuko. That has got to be its own category. (And maybe its own rating, too.)

**Notes:** I am ridiculously behind on Ouran. I'm still stuck on volume 8 of the manga, if you can believe that. Also, Yuuko makes some otherwise impossible things happen, but most of the focus is on the Ouran cast. Also, also. Verb tenses are (intentionally? – that's debatable) incredibly wonky in this piece. No spoilers, at least to my knowledge.

**Chapter Summary:** Tamaki goes back to see his friends one last time.

* * *

**Crossroads**

"One More Day"

By Hikagi

* * *

He watches, because that's the only thing he _can_ do at this point; watches them as they come into the room with smiles on their faces and laughter resonating in their throats. Watches and waits and suffers as they set the room straight and bring out the tea sets because he knows that _they're going to die anyway_ and _they're just so young_ and _if only I'd known before, I could have..._

"Could have"…? Could have… what – done something? Like what he is doing now?

But every time he opens his mouth to warn his friends, every time he feels a lull in the conversation or meets any one of their eyes or sees an opportunity that presents itself, he finds that he can't. Can't bring himself to grab their shoulders and get their attention and tell them to _wake up_ and_ look around you! Can't you see that it's not going to end well at all?_

Even if he does – if he _ever_ does – he doesn't know if they'll take him seriously or if they will brush him off without hesitation and attribute his fantastical tales as just that. He knows – though he hopes and wishes otherwise – that it might not even make a difference in the end, even though he has given up _so much_ for them, even though he feels like he has lost it all and that once had been bad enough, but twice would probably kill him, and _they don't know_ and _they probably will never know_ and _I don't know if I can…_

It's a miracle he can even see them in the first place. But coming back here has also been a relentless torture. He has so many memories of this room, these people – enough to last a long time – but it is never enough. Can never _be_ enough.

Because memories don't last forever, and there's no point in reminiscing if all the people involved are long gone. It's not enough that he has memories if there is no one to make them with.

So he wants to warn them, but he doesn't even know how to begin. Would it even matter in the long run? Can he even affect anything as he is right now? He is rich, yes, but all the money in the world can't stop time, can't keep people safe when it really matters, can't keep people _alive._ But that is for later… or does it start now? If he had handled things differently, would things have turned out for the better? If he had not come up with a ridiculous idea to gather such a club, would they have gravitated to each other anyway?

He does not know; he cannot be certain.

Because of this uncertainty, he is hesitant to change things right away. Would they drift apart? Stay together? Become strong enough as individuals that though others fall, they would be able to keep going?

(Look how well _that_ has turned out.)

But for now, he has a script he has to follow – a series of motions or words or gestures that "define him" in most people's eyes. To stray from it would alert the others that all is not right, which couldn't be closer to the truth. But in doing so, nothing would be accomplished; would, instead, only cause unnecessary concern and anxiety, and for all the wrong reasons.

Despite this second chance, despite this incredible opportunity to right all wrongs and fix the future, he does not want to worry his friends. And so, he cannot deviate from what others expect of him.

More laughter. The sound of shoes scuffing against the tiled floors and water being brought to a boil, the sound of their voices in the spacious room echoing against the walls and ceiling, the faint sound of wind stirring through the trees outside and leaves rustling on their branches.

He turns from the window and sees the twins mercilessly teasing their little "pauper" with confetti and birthday hats, and one of them (even now, twenty years later – [or is it now "twenty years before"? or does that even count at this point since he is technically, more or less, sixteen again?] – he still can't tell them apart) manages to get the bits of colored paper stuck in her hair so that she looks more like a sprinkled cupcake than a person. But Haruhi doesn't seem to mind so much even though she is scowling and futilely admonishing them for making a mess and chastising them for their behavior. He sees Kyouya jotting something or another down in his ledger and knows without a doubt that even though Kyouya threatens Haruhi with fees, he's only looking out for her well-being and everyone else's general happiness. He also knows that in a few seconds the twins are going to…

Ah yes, there they go again. Running across freshly-waxed floors with nary a second thought (nor shoes, for that matter). If they keep up this sort of reckless behavior, it wouldn't be very long before an accident-

_-happened when they had least expected. Granted, their security should have been able to handle the matter, but even the most experienced bodyguards could not have hoped to contain a bad situation gone worse. With civilians crowding the streets and most motor vehicles left useless by the large rents in the asphalt, the Hiitachins had been forced to relocate their latest show to a country that was less susceptible to natural disasters. Five hours after the first tremors had hit Japan, Hikaru and Kaoru had packed and loaded their entire entourage to a hastily-prepared venue in France, determined not to postpone their event for any longer than necessary._

_In the end, Hikaru and Kaoru had been the first to go. There had been a gathering a few blocks away about some sort of protest or another, which had broken out into a riot when the police tried to disband the demonstration. The fighting had extended down to the Hiitachins' venue, and their staff of bodyguards had looked too much like police force for the rioters to leave them alone. In the confusion, they were pulled into the mess which ended up with more than half the staff injured and the twins dead._

_Tamaki hadn't talked to anyone that entire day, locking himself in his office and refusing all contact with other people. But despite this, Haruhi had managed to barrel her way through his doors, bringing along the rest of the (former) members of the Host Club._

_Tamaki was grateful that no one tried to say anything. He took comfort in their presence and silent support. They were alive, and they were together even though two of their members had passed on._

_The same could not be said a few weeks later._

* * *

_Chika had been grievously injured as a result of a freak accident when one of the Haninozuka's private jets had hit an air pocket and a series of unfortunate events had the plane losing too much altitude too fast. There had been a number of casualties, but Chika hadn't actually died until his organs failed a few days into his stay at one of the best medical facilities money could buy._

(Sometimes even money isn't enough.)

_Hunny-sempai (and by proxy, Mori-sempai as well) had canceled all previous engagements and had locked himself up somewhere. Tamaki hadn't known this then, because he had still been juggling responsibilities between preparing funeral arrangements for the twins and managing the office._

_The next time Tamaki had seen his sempai, they had both been wearing casts: Mori-sempai, for his broken leg; Hunny-sempai for a sprained wrist and broken knuckles. Both refused to talk of the matter, though Tamaki noted that they seemed to avoid eye contact with each other._

_Hunny-sempai pretended nothing was wrong._

_("It's nothing," he had said, brushing aside Tamaki's worry. "I was careless. Hit something harder than I meant to.")_

_Mori-sempai didn't say much else either._

_("Don't worry. I fell."_

"_And that bruise on your face?"_

_Mori-sempai looked away briefly before shrugging. Tamaki didn't have to turn to see that Mori-sempai's eyes had flickered in Hunny-sempai's direction._

"_Accident.")_

* * *

_But despite their strained relationship, Mori-sempai didn't hesitate to save Hunny-sempai from being shot the next day._

* * *

_A flash of lightning followed by rumbling thunder._

"_Ne, ne, Tama-chan."_

_Raindrops falling gently against the window, a steady background of soft patters and white noise. Reflections and shadows and silhouettes cast from a dim light. Tears on a dry face._

"_Is it a bad thing if I don't know how to cry anymore? Is it a bad thing if the only way is to pretend that the rain outside is..."_

_Speechless. Nothing can really compare. Sometimes words aren't enough._

_Tears on a dry face, running sideways, diagonally, down until they hit the carpet, and kept going until they encountered the shadows of the windowsill. Probably would have kept going on forever and ever if they could._

_Forever and ever and ever._

* * *

He should have done something _then_. But it had already been too late, because everyone had been hurting, Hunny-sempai most of all. And no one really knew what they could have done, because they had been brought up and raised to be businessmen, leaders, innovators, presidents, CEOs, competitors, allies, heads of families… just… not as _friends._

Too late, and by the next time, impossible.

* * *

"_Suoh-san, thank you for meeting me on such short notice."_

_They shook hands, smiles plastered onto their faces, shoulders stiff in business suits and ties, feelings and familiarity hidden by distance and walls and layers even though they stood only an arm's length apart._

"_Not at all... Haninozuka-san." He flashed his teeth in what an outsider might have considered to be a smile; his friends would have known that something was wrong. But Haninozuka didn't seem to notice._

_That was not their Hunny-sempai from the Host Club. That was not their friend._

"_On to business, then. I've been thinking about this recent proposal that my men have in plan for the future of our merging companies..."_

_Hunny-sempai was now long gone._

('We should have made two graves for Mori-sempai.')

* * *

Could have; would have; should have.

But didn't. And that is the problem he wants to fix.

Wants, but can't bring himself to do, because everyone looks so _damn happy_ in comparison to his last memories. He doesn't want to stain that happiness right now because there is time enough for life to do that job for him.

But is it enough time?

* * *

_("Again? Too many regrets. Too many wishes."_

_A long, meaningful glance from oddly-colored eyes._

"_You'd be a fool to think so.")_

* * *

The sound of china being set. A soft sigh of melancholy and exasperation and... contentment?

He finds it somewhat amusing that he notices all these sounds – that it is his sense of hearing that is hardest at work here. Because amidst all the people and colors and conversation and shapes and events and feelings and words, words, words, his mind latches on to the creaks of furniture, the tinkling of china, the squeaking of soles. From this time, sounds are the clearest things in his memory, because he can't bring himself to recall the other things – things that, looking back, have been filled with premonitions of pain and…

He doesn't remember what her laughter sounds like, though.

"Sempai."

He sees her walk towards him, holding an empty serving tray (even though the clients have yet to arrive), brushing her hair with her free hand.

Haruhi hasn't had an easy time towards the end either.

* * *

"_Sempai," she said, voice unsure. "What did...?"_

_He choked to keep his voice steady and took (too long, much too long) a second to swallow. "Fine." His words didn't quaver, even when the statements were as straight as a boomerang. "They said you'll be alright. Might have to come back a few more times for extra tests just to make sure."_

"_Oh." She breathed, and softly exhaled. "I'm glad."_

_(She had died twenty, thirty, a hundred years too early from the same damnable disease that had stolen away her mother. He had tried everything – after all, what "friend" (not just a friend, but he was a bit of a coward sometimes, especially for things that lay so close to his heart) wouldn't? – but all the money in the world hadn't been enough to buy her a cure, because not even money could make the world stand still.)_

* * *

_("Not enough time, my dear."_

_A sharp, predatory grin._

"_Never__ enough time.")_

* * *

He feels a light tug on his sleeves. "Tamaki-sempai."

He blinks, contemplating for an eternity if he should just whisk her away to the nearest doctor, consequences and reputation be damned. But then he blinks again and...

_("I wonder how much you'd be willing to give up... for your wish."_

_A shift in patterns as she rose from her seat, her clothes forming a graceful display, revealing what was almost an indecent amount of cleavage. She was standing much too close for comfort, but that didn't really matter since he loved… or had ever loved only one woman.)_

Haruhi looks healthy enough, though.

"Tamaki-sempai. Are you feeling ill?"

_Of course. _ The world is falling apart, he doesn't have much time to live - _they_ don't have much time to live, and-

He offers her his reassurances until she is satisfied and walks away.

_Stupid. Say something! Warn her! She's going to go away, and you'll keep putting it off. Again and again and again until it'll happen for real!_

He takes a step forward-

"Tamaki."

Kyouya is looking at him with a peculiar expression, and it is strange because the last time (or is it, the next time? But that is not correct either, because there are [or "had been"; or is that "will be"?] many other instances since then. But the it is the "last time" in accordance to… what ever had landed him _here_) he has had that particular look on his face, the man had been-

_-was sitting tiredly in a chair, slowly swirling some sort of drink in his hand. The fireplace was burning brightly, but without much cheer; it was much too cold and desolate in the room. They stayed like that for a while until..._

"_You know, you're going to have to stop that."_

_He looked at him questioningly because he didn't quite understand._

_Kyouya gestured. "You know. Whatever it is you're doing. Stop it. It's driving me up a wall."_

_He almost answered back, "Just about __everything__ I do drives you up a wall," but refrained, because there was something in his friend's eyes that made him pause. Instead, he said, "Ah. Then I shall have to join you soon to keep you company."_

_Kyouya snorted into his drink. It wasn't wine or champagne because those were considered to be somewhat celebratory, and he knew that Kyouya was in a gloomy mood… so it had to be just grape juice or the melon-flavored kind that Kyouya had once commented to Haru-… to __her__ once about – the kind that you can get at any commoner's supermar-_

"I think you need to go home, Tamaki," Kyouya says, frowning. Tamaki knows that Kyouya is beyond just simple worry if he is suggesting such a thing. And the frown really doesn't suit his friend's face.

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "No. I'm fine. Besides, the lovely ladies-"

"Can wait," his friend interrupts. "You need to-"

"_-take care of yourself," Kyouya finished, lacing his fingers together while propping his elbows on top of his mahogany desk. That piece of furniture had been a gift from one of his father's oldest clients and had been made from specially treated wood grown in one of the client's personal gardens._

_He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "I've been eating and sleeping properly. There's nothing to worry about."_

_His friend sighed, resigned. Worried. Tired. "You're still thinking about them. About her."_

"_And what if I am?"_

_They glanced at the fireplace, even though it was in the middle of summer, and the weather outside was in the forties. Briefly, he contemplated getting a thermometer that told the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit, just to change things a bit._

"_Don't leave me here by myself, Tamaki. It's bad enough that the others are gone."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not going anywhere." He shrugged, almost helplessly. "Where would I go __to__?"_

_Kyouya grit his teeth in annoyance. "That's not what I mean. Don't leave me like the others did. You're the last one left."_

"_Hunny's still here," he replied evasively, turning to face away._

"_That's not Hunny," the other countered. "Not anymore."_

"_I'm not going anywhere, Kyouya."_

"_Liar," his friend shot back. "You're already half-gone, and slipping away more each day. There isn't anything that's keeping you here, and I don't know if one day I'll turn around and see that you've disappeared even though you're standing right there in front of me."_

_It wasn't the first time he had seen him almost angry, but he could hardly find the words to fix anything._

"_I'm not going anywhere," he repeated, softer this time. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince._

He looks at Kyouya, and wonders if he can spare his friend from all the pain that's going to happen – if he can save them all. But there isn't enough time…

* * *

_("Never enough time," she repeated, blowing out smoke from her pipe._

_An exhale of smoke and the smell of something sweet lingering in the air._

_"But that's why you are here, no?"_

_She shuffled in her seat again, showing more exposed skin than he had even thought possible. That woman was all leg – well-proportioned and exotic ones – and she knew it too._

_"So. What is it that you want, Suoh Tamaki.")_

* * *

"_You can't change the past. You can't turn back time."_

"_I wish I could."_

"_But what would that accomplish, Tamaki?"_

"_I…" He still couldn't find the right words. "I don't know." He swallowed. "But I have to at least try."_

"_Try? Try what?" Mirthless laughter. "And how would you do that anyhow?"_

_He didn't know what to say; didn't know what his friend wanted to hear that would make him stop asking questions; didn't know if he wanted to find out the answers to those questions in the first place._

"_Do you remember," he said instead, "our old classmate, Nekozawa-sempai?"_

"_Why?"_

("I want... I wish…")

"_He told me…" No, that would sound absurd. Even the most open-minded of people are skeptical after a certain point. "There's a rumor… about a witch."_

"_I don't believe in magic."_

"_I'll do anything, Kyouya. Anything."_

"_I know." A pause. "That's the problem."_

_He knew what Kyouya was thinking: that he was so desperate as to chase rumors left and right, all across the world on a fool's errand for just the slightest of chances that there was a possibility to make an impossible thing come true. Tamaki knew, and he could not deny it._

("I _need…_")

"_Is it even worth it?"_

_The sound of dejection in his otherwise unshakable friend's voice almost made him pause. Almost, because now there was no turning back, and Haruhi was worth so much more. Haruhi, Kaoru, Hikaru, Mori-sempai, Hunny-sempai, and even Kyouya himself. Their lives were worth too much not to do anything, even if half of their group was still living right now._

_Living, but not __alive._

"_Of course."_

_Their lives were worth too much not to chase a rumor halfway across the world._

* * *

("I wonder what you'd be willing to pay for just one more day with them.")

Fin.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

This was one BIG experimentation. I am very sorry if I had been over-ambitious, and as a result confused you beyond belief. If I didn't, that means I'm not the only one out there with a brain that does odd twists and turns. It got so confusing and intertwined that at one point, I color-coded all the different timelines to keep them straight. I wish I had that luxury here.

I am not at all comfortable with writing Tamaki. (Also, this was way more introspective than I had intended.) A lot of his actions here might not make much sense until I explain what's actually going on – which even Tamaki doesn't know about. Will get to that next time.

I haven't written anything in what feels like _forever_. And like my usual M.O., I decided to write when I should have been focusing on other things instead. Whoops. (And I wanted to keep it short, too. Didn't work out so well when it ended up being a little more than three thousand words… XD)

This chapter was the result of thinking how tragic Ouran could be – so much potential for angst! And then I got to thinking, "You know, it would really suck if Tamaki is the last one of the Host Club to stay alive." (Mori would have been a good candidate too because he suffers _so quietly_. The other option for last survivor might be explored if I get to the sequel.) Actually, any of them dying before each other would really suck, unless it's from old age. Aaaaaand that didn't even really end up happening – someone is still around! If I get started on this shot's sequel, you'll (kinda) see what happened in the future(?) or whatever. Agh! This is so confusing!

_Yatsuka Hikagi_

_July 09, 2013_


End file.
